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Write about a character who wishes they could just disappear — and then they do.

Posted in Mystery on Jan 20, 2023

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✍️ 50 stories

The Lost Continent

Submitted to Contest #182

Danny Beresford woke up in a good mood, as he did every morning after Penny’s abrupt departure. It was a relief to start the day without her cold shoulder and frosty words. Even before their divorce was completed, she’d earmarked her possessions; family heirlooms, souvenirs from foreign holidays, and all those silly knick-knacks with limited sentimental value. Danny hadn’t contested her choices; he’d always thought the place was far too cluttered. ‘I suppose it’s less to dust,’ his mother had said. ‘But it’s a damn nerve, dear.’ ‘N...

35 likes 33 comments 33
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The Disappeared

Submitted to Contest #182

The plane between Ellie’s world and wherever she was now had a fuzzy quality. She could see past it, but immaterial grains buzzed across the surface, reminiscent of television static. A moment ago, she’d slid her hand through it, only to snap it back in shock when it didn’t reappear on the other side. She wriggled her fingers to make sure they still worked.The people directly on the other side of the plane were oblivious to it, so in that sense it reminded her of a two-way mirror. Those people also happened to be her parents. She could see h...

31 likes 26 comments 26
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Fragment of Fragrance

Submitted to Contest #182

CW: Domestic violence, Child abuse I set the date. And get to work. I pack two lunches. Put one in my bag and leave the other on the wobbly table next to the stove. I don’t bother to wake him up on a Monday morning. If he is too hungover to make it to work on time, it’s on him. I lock the door and hop over the puddle bordered by soapsuds. My neighbour is crushing her laundry on a slab of stone a few feet away. I lower my head and scoot down the alley before she looks at me. She hurls, “What a racket last night. Is he dead yet!!” at my back. ...

29 likes 29 comments 29
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My Music Box

Submitted to Contest #182

There was a girl once. There were many girls in fact. A guy or two but mostly girls. The girl on my mind was the one who played me songs on her piano and held me when I was sad. She made me smile, she made me laugh and she made me happy.  There was a boy once. With red hair and amber eyes who lived across the street, he wrote me stories and held my hand. I loved him. And he loved me.  He loved the girl who played piano and she loved him back. I loved the girl who played the piano and she loved me. We loved each other. We had e...

29 likes 9 comments 9
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I'M NOT ALICE AND THIS IS NO WONDERLAND

Submitted to Contest #182

I wish I could disappear, be like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. The difference is, if I had a choice, I’d prefer to leave nothing behind, just appear or reappear on my own terms.My name is Alice, but I’m not Alice. I refuse to be. I will see to it, or I’ll drink something that will, indeed, make me disappear.  I’m sure I could find a bottomless hole to jump into, if it came to that. We’ll just have to see.* * *My connection to Alice in Wonderland, beyond childhood familiarity with both the...

27 likes 26 comments 26
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Return to Plum Creek

Shortlisted for Contest #182 ⭐️

Mrs. Frasier insisted on complete silence when it was reading time. She clapped her hands sharply two times and gave the third graders a stern look. Recess was over, coats and scarves hung on hooks. The chatter and jostling was dwindling but not yet done. Two more claps. Chairs scraped across the linoleum floor as the children settled, and all eyes turned to Danny Green who was frozen in a robot pose near Mrs. Frasier’s desk, his dark eyes wide with mock fear, his mouth in an O.          &nbs...

26 likes 12 comments 12
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Train Ride

Shortlisted for Contest #182 ⭐️

I know she can feel me looking at her. I try to suppress the shock that is contorting my face. She’s eight or ten people behind me in the line. I avert my eyes, barely, attempting to camouflage my snooping. Her greasy hair and splotchy pink skin burn in my peripheral. The oblivious baby on her hip. The royal blue spaghetti strap dress. Half-dress. I shiver. She’s looking at me, it’s obvious. Disgust plastered on her face. Everyone is looking at me. Well, this is what he wanted. What he always wants. I’m used to the attention. A cool gust o...

25 likes 18 comments 18
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Eumelia and Kallais- A story in the style of Ancient Greek Mythology

Submitted to Contest #182

Hera, goddess of women, I beg you to help me!But Hera had other issues to contend with. The desperate pleading of one little, abused mortal did not register with her as she raged at her faithless husband yet again. Eumelia was on her own, the man holding her down was simply too powerful. She was merely a woman, and as such, she was powerless to do anything but plead silently to the goddess for a reprieve.Artemis, please save me! Daphne had escaped the amorous advances of Apollo. She had run, cried and begged, and eventually he...

21 likes 12 comments 12
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Disappearing With The Devil

Submitted to Contest #182

“Let’s take a walk, shall we? And you can tell me why you wanted to disappear.” He offers his arm, like a gallant knight, and inexplicably, Kate takes it, because she doesn’t know what else to do. The devil doesn’t look like she expected him to. There are no horns, no teeth glistening with drops of blood, no maniacal laughter. True, he is shrouded in black, cloaks and hair and even his very skin seems shadowed. He—Kate is not even sure it is a he—looks more like a middle-aged emo-wanna-be than the devil. “Tell me,” he urges, and Kate rem...

18 likes 5 comments 5
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Mississippi Magnolias

Submitted to Contest #182

Every time Jenny Bennett smelled the sweet, airy smell of champagne it brought back the magnolia trees of the 1950s; it brought back the childhood that was ripped from her hands at the innocent age of 7; it brought back the little town of Natchez, Mississippi. Magnolia blooms used to be her favorite part of spring; now they were a gentle yet bitter reminder of what she had lost. “Life is nothing without love and forgiveness and the good Lord intended us to practice both ” her daddy used to say. She supposed that eventually, she would find fo...

18 likes 7 comments 7
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Robbing Hookers

Submitted to Contest #182

When the cab struck us, Mecca ricocheted off Seventh Avenue South and died. Mecca was a stupid nickname for a first-generation Chinese guy from Queens. He always said that any woman would make the journey for his love. Even dead, he looked like a heart attack waiting to happen. Maybe he lost control of the motorcycle because of a heart attack. Overeaters should not be getaway drivers. A siren wailed. There's always a siren in the city. But Mecca was past that siren's help and me, I didn't want it. I picked up the bag and limped toward the Bo...

16 likes 9 comments 9
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Smoke Rings

Submitted to Contest #182

 So much for his last refuge. The bartender hadn't bothered, but the older couple in back flinched as she walked in; tobacco smoke tail swishing behind her through dive bar door. Happily married ten years and surviving another forty, they recognized the pressure change. Poor Elliot turned to see the start of another bad night. Not that he hadn't already been in the shit since he woke up. He laid in a bed of it every night since Shanon left, again. Every time she came back, he'd remake the sheets for her to piss on again. She wafted thro...

16 likes 9 comments 9
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The 4:15 Bus is Running Late

Submitted to Contest #182

My cousin Amy had a sly smile on her face across the table. I tried to give her a warning look, but the corner of my mouth involuntarily curled just enough to acknowledge that we shared a secret. Not a secret I want to share with my sixteen year old cousin. "I wonder where Jeremy and Rose got off to?" Aunt Gladys asked, looking around the table. Her eyes passed right over me and Rose. "I'm sure they'll be here." My mother said. "Well", Aunt Gladys said with a wink. "They are newlyweds". "Gladys!" My mother scolded. "You b...

15 likes 3 comments 3
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The Jasmine Bush

Submitted to Contest #182

Sensitive Content Trigger Warning: References to domestic violence, substance abuse, physical violenceLauren Hollings pulled the blankets tightly to her chin, listening to the roar of the hemi engine as it pulled down the tranquil street in the early morning hours when sleep was either friend or foe. And it had been foe for too long to recall. The empty space beside her was a constant reminder of the life she had naively been duped into. Fat tremulous tears gathered in her eyes as she heard the key engaging the front door lock, then the dead...

14 likes 9 comments 9
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The Garden of Reflection

Submitted to Contest #182

Suffering. The Choices We’re Offered. Dignity. A thick roiling mist crawled from the sea to blanket the village’s charred remains. Scorched cobbled streets ran between the skeletons of burnt homes. All that survived in the market square were smoldering, blackened trees; every merchant stall was obliterated, and every joyously-colored banner burned and tattered, smudged with gray grit. Drifting ash hung in the eerie stillness. And although it was mid-morning, the sun seemed like a distant, cold, shying orb, ashamed to lend its light to the tr...

14 likes 9 comments 9
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